The Sins of Growing Up
by Thatsjusttoobad
Summary: Jack Frost is a powerful force in the organized crime circle. He has it all, money, power, drugs, sex, but his simple world comes crashing to a halt when a boy named Peter Pan is suddenly pushed into it. Peter Pan/Jack Frost WARNINGS: Rape, Torture, Murder, Drug Abuse, Very Sad Ending
1. Chapter 1

**Rating: **Mature

**Pairing: **Jack Frost/Peter Pan

**Genre: **Mafia AU

**Warnings: **Rape, torture, murder, sad - very sad - ending

_ITALICS ARE A FLASHBACK OR DREAMS_

PROLOGUE

Hot.

Dear _**GOD**_ it's _hot_.

It's surrounding me, suffocating me in its never-ending, relentless embrace. I _hate _the heat. I've always preferred cold especially the icy, dead of winter, freezing-to-death-in-a-frozen-lake, type of cold. The way the frost forms in fantastic formations around your fingers if you hold them up to a window long enough and the silent sound the snow makes as it hits the ground. However, where I am – or at least _think_ I am – would never assist me in enjoying this simple delight.

Stretching and groaning, I rolled over until I smelled the familiar scent of sex as I buried my face back into not-so-fluffy crappy-motel-sheets. I did it again didn't I?

Yep, that's me, always waking up in some stranger's bed or a stranger in my bed and fuzzy memories of the night before. I'll admit that it hasn't always been like this; I used to at least KNOW the person I woke up with. Well, at least their stripper name or what gang they were from or… ah well, does it really matter? My line of work isn't exactly pristine.

You see I'm the leader of a mafia.

CHAPTER 1

After dressing and slipping out of that dingy motel room, I got in my car and moments later was speeding down the highway. My phone buzzed in my pocket, nearly giving me a heart attack for I forgot it was there. I pulled it out and glanced at the contact name - Nick St. North. Sighing, I hit the green accept button and immediately spat out "What North?" because I really didn't have the time or patience for a hello at the moment.

North chuckled before greeting me, "Well glad to hear you so happy this morning. Rough night?"

"Have I ever had a good night?" I really didn't have time for this conversation. "What do you want? I don't want my time wasted by some 'friendly' conversation, so either get to the point or hang up."

Another chuckle but he did finally get to the point.

"We need you. There's another one."

I let the slightly annoyed silence sit for a while before huffing out, "Meet me at my place in about 15 hours," and hanging up.

'Another one' was basically code for another gang trying to become part of my mob. I drove for a couple more hours before I realized that I'd forgotten my black tie on the bedside table in that crappy motel in hot, hot, hot Vegas. Damn, that was my favorite tie. Oh well.

It was another hour until I stopped to pee and get food - a bag of barbecue chips and Coke - then I was off again. It would still be at least eight more hours and two more restroom stops until I got back to my place in Colorado, then I would have to wait for North and the new family's head to show up to see what I thought about them.

After way too long of a drive I finally reached my destination. It'd been almost a year since I'd last been to this house and it still looked exactly how I remembered - give or take a few overgrown bushes and ivy vines.

My old 1930's cabin-thing in the forest still had the same white paint from when it was originally built except now it was more yellowish and the same chipping concrete patio that I would spend hours on doing who knows what. I got out of the car and went to unlock the house only to find that the door wasn't even on it's hinges.

Someone had broken in… again. That was the 3rd time in this house and people wonder why I never go here. Well other than the fact that I'd been born here.

I walked into the main room and threw down my bag and keys onto the dusty old green couch before I searched through the rest of the tiny 800 square foot house.

To my surprise nothing was missing except every single one of my movies which, of course, was odd but I'm not too worried about a couple of VHS's that I'd been wanting to update to DVD's anyways.

Then it happened.

The guilt, shame, horrible repressed memories, and - worst of all - pent up anger about having to pretend to be someone I'm not took ahold of me and there I was crying on the floor. Damn this place.

_A little boy ran laughing through the flowers in the back yard. He wasn't allowed in the front until he could properly handle a gun. His beautiful mother stood on the porch, her brunette hair in a braid cascading over her shoulder. She loved watching her baby boy play as much as possible because she knew what her son didn't. Then multiple gun shots rang through the air. Even though this was a common occurrence, the boy's mother knew something was wrong and she ran to pick him up and carry him away from the fray. But she would never make it to her son and her son would never know what her last words to him were. He would never know that as she lay in the flowers bleeding out that she whispered to her little boy, "I love you, Jack."_

After a good sob I pulled myself together and staggered over to the liquor cabinet. Weeping is not something someone of my importance should be doing so I grabbed the strongest whiskey I could find and took a long pull. When the bottle was shut and put back into its proper place, (everything had to be in its proper place when I was around) I had a very nice, very familiar burn itching in my throat. Glancing at the clock I saw there was not much time left until North got here with the family so I figured that I better take a shower so the others don't have to smell the skank I had gotten with.

Just moments after I'd pulled on my favorite plaid shirt and an old pair of what used to be skinny jeans, I heard a crisp knock at the door. I opened it to reveal a man much taller than myself wearing a frankly alarming amount of red, long black hair draped over his shoulders, and he leaned on a heavy looking cane. What stuck out most, however, on this flamboyant figure was his hook where his left hand should've been. He introduced himself immediately, "Hello, I'm James Hook and you must be Mr. Frost?"

I held out a hand to shake his as I nodded hesitantly. Geez, no one made me feel this intimidated since my dad was still alive and I commanded one of the most powerful groups on the planet.

"Yeah, I'm Frost. Jack Frost that is," I told him with all the intensity I could muster then asked, "Is North with you?"

"'M right here Frost!" Came a powerful Russian accent from behind Hook. I internally sighed with relief. North was one of the toughest people I knew and strictly speaking, I wasn't supposed to be left alone without a bodyguard of somesort. Of course I thought that was a stupid rule because I could handle myself perfectly thank you very much but this 'Hook' fellow gave the impression he could stare down a shark until said shark rolled belly up and on top of that he probably had at least five other men with him. I was just thankful I had some back up this time.

As I gestured for Hook to come in and have a seat I found I was sorely mistaken about him having more men with him. The only other person brought with him was a small red-headed boy, maybe fifteen or sixteen? He timidly followed Hook yet still walked with a bounce of defiance. I wondered if this kid is Hook's son but I decided to save that for later, now was the time to figure out if James Hook is worth wasting my time or not.

Hook and his red-headed companion sat on my love seat adjacent to an old recliner which I sat on and North took over half the couch.

I talked to Hook for at least an hour before we got to the topic of his men and I finally snuck a question in about the boy.

"Oh Peter?" Hook replied, mildly surprised in my interest in his companion, "He's my _personal _servant."

"Ah," I said simply.

I continued to talk to him about why his gang - he called them his crew, like they were pirates or something - should be included in my organized crime circle but after learning about the boy, Peter, I'd lost interest. Of course 'personal servant' could mean anything but the way Hook said it made me worry about the innocence of such a young teen. I wasn't sure if I could trust the hidden meanings of Hook's words with his long, wiry mustache.

When it began to get dark, I wrapped up our conversation and gave Hook his instructions on what him and his crew needed to do before I would let them be under my command. If it had been done correctly within the next 48 hours then Hook would meet me back here with his men. If not… well I couldn't risk having my current whereabouts be known to people I couldn't trust, now could I?

On Hook's way out the door, Peter bumped into him causing Hook to turn sharply on his heel and raise his cane as if to hit the cowering boy before remembering there was an audience. Hook gave a completely un-dignified grunt before grabbing Peter's wrist and throwing him out the door. I turned to North to glimpse at his reaction - which was almost as horrified as my own - but he didn't stay where he was forever and went out the door after them. However, North didn't make it outside before I heard a dull thud followed by a small whimper and Hook's voice making an obscene threat confirming my suspicions about what kind of 'personal' servant Peter was.

I shut the door and sat down on the couch in a daze. That was cruel to the extreme and thats coming from someone who runs the business of cruel to the extreme. Sure I've killed people and tortured some for information - I've even been the person getting beaten for info - but even _I _have some boundaries and James Hook just went running past several of them.

First of all, I would never cause physical pain to someone for accidentally running into me or make threats about how they were going to be punished so severely they wouldn't be able to walk properly for several days. Secondly, I think owning a person for sexual purposes is absolutely revolting. Don't get me wrong, I buy and sell many illegal things myself but I would _never_ buy OR sell a _human being _for my own pleasure.

However, there was still a spark of the real Peter burning somewhere deep in his eyes. After seeing how Peter is treated by his owner I knew that I had to get him out of that situation. Whatever it took.

**AN: Merry Christmas! Happy Hanukkah! Happy Kwanzaa! And happy anything else I missed! **

**Okay, first of all I am super duper excited to finally start putting this up and see what you lovelies think of it. Secondly, I've been working really hard on this but I've been slipping back into my usual depressed state and haven't been getting much done of anything so because I don't want to fail school or anything like that, this may not be updated as regularly as it should be. I'm aiming for one chapter every month but we'll have to see how that goes.**

**In other news, I sorta kinda have a sorta kinda boyfriend. You personally might not care but gosh damn. This is a big deal for me. There are actually people out there that give a shit that I exist. You all care obviously but most of the time I feel like people are just pretending to care for their own personal gain. I know thats not true for a good majority of the time and I know I'm not the only person who feels like this. So I guess what I'm trying to say in all this meaningless rambling is to all the people with anxiety, depression, ocd, etc. You're not alone and if you ever need someone to talk to my inbox is always open.**

**Anyways, don't forget to R&R and have a wonderful life you wonderful person!**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: I forgot to mention on the first chapter, I do not own any rights to DreamWorks ****_Rise of the Guardians _****or Disney's ****_Peter Pan._**** These characters are not mine and this story is completely from my own brain.**

CHAPTER 2

After drinking an obscene amount of tea and shouting to myself the things I'd like to say to people like Hook, I called my buddy Aster Bunnymund. Weird name, I know, but it actually means 'the opposite of disaster' which I find hilarious because Aster usually finds himself in the middle of some sort of disaster on almost a daily basis. Although, I'm not exactly sure where 'Bunnymund' comes from. I like to think its because he sometimes reminds me of a big fluffy bunny. Aster specializes in thievery and I needed a person to be thieved. He picked up his phone after the second ring, answering with a thick aussie accent.

"'Ello Frost."

"Aster, I have a job for you," I got right to the point and of course he wanted to know what was in it for himself.

"Lessee… How does $1000 sound?"

"I think tha' sounds about righ'. What's the job?"

"I need you to track down a James Hook. Once you find him you'll find a red-headed boy, maybe fifteen or sixteen? I want the boy asap."

"Can do boss."

There was a soft beep telling me Aster has hung up so I threw my phone down on the couch and slunk into the bedroom to take a long overdue snooze.

_It'd been years since that little boy had witnessed his dear mother's death and that little boy was not so little anymore. He now sat handcuffed to a chair being interrogated about the whereabouts of his slimy father. Each time the boy was asked he told the truth. _

"_I DON'T KNOW!" _

_He would scream again and again yet each time the hits would get harder or the knife would dig deeper. The boy tried making up a location that his father might be in but that never worked. _

_Weeks and weeks he spent attached to a chair in a dark room until finally one hot, hot, hot day the guards let in the boy's captor. That day should've been like any other with merciless beatings for information and maybe a crumb of bread for supper if he got lucky but something was off in the air. The boy stared at the ground unknowing of what fate was coming to him. _

_Slowly all of the boy's garments were removed and in one searingly painful moment his purity had been stolen by none other than Pitch Black._

I awoke with a start, bolting straight up and throwing my blanket off. My forehead was soaked in sweat and the all too vivid flashback still there every time I shut my eyes, even for a second.

Rolling out of bed, I went and picked up my phone. Four new texts from Aster.

10:45pm

I found Hook. Moving in on him now.

11:30pm

Got the boy. Red head right?

1:15am

The kid says you're in Colorado? You haven't been there in years, mate.

2:00am

Pulling up to your place now.

I checked the time, 3:30am. Shit! He's been outside for an hour and a half; I'll never hear the end of this. I ran outside to find Aster and Peter fast asleep in the old Impala that Aster got from his dad.

"Oh I wish I had a camera right now," I mumbled. The sight was an odd mix between strange and adorable.

When I walked up to the driver's side Aster popped up and pointed a gun at me through the open window. It took him a second or two to register who I was before lowering the weapon.

"Geez, mate, what took ya' so long? We've been out here for-"

"An hour and a half. I know," I said, cutting him off. "Is Peter all right?"

"Peter?" He said, looking confused before figuring out who I was talking about. "Yeah, the little brumby is jus' about as okay as he can ge' with a life like his."

"Good... Good. Can you help me bring him inside?"

Aster was a gentle as possible with Peter and I was thankful for that because I didn't want him to be more damaged than he already was. Once he lay on the bed I did a quick examination and after deciding that Peter's cuts and bruises weren't severe enough for immediate medical attention, I let him sleep. After all, you gotta dream while you still can.

Aster and I walked into the kitchen, which is adjacent to the living room where I'd first seen Peter. I pulled a cabinet open to find the safe with most of my cash inside. After putting in the code and giving Aster his money, the thief left without another word.

I sat on the couch and waited for Peter to wake up.

Approximately three and a quarter hours later I heard rustling coming from the other room. I ran to the doorway connecting my room to the rest of the place and came to a dead stop.

What exactly do you do when you're a mafia lord and you've kidnapped someone for _good_ purposes?

I stood there perplexed until Peter started frantically thrashing, obviously tangled in the sheets.

"Where am I?!" Peter yelled.

Flipping on the light, I took a few tentative steps forward and he stopped moving.

"You- You're that guy!" Peter informed me. "What do you want with me? I can't tell you anything if thats what you want. The Captain never tells me anything important!"

I raised my eyebrows before taking a few more cautious steps toward him. He tried to back away but was stuck against the far wall. I guess I should've expected this reaction, forcefully removing him from his life and all.

"Peter I- ... Wait don't move." I told him and ran out of the room.

After a short time banging around in the poor excuse for a kitchen, I reappeared with a tray full of food and an entire jug of milk precariously tucked under my arm. Peter still looked like a deer caught in the headlights but upon seeing the food, he calmed slightly. I placed the tray as close to him as I dared get and set the milk on the night stand. After standing there awkwardly for a period of time, I realized that Peter might actually eat the food if I left the room so thats exactly what I did.

I went back to the couch and pulled out my shitty PC. It took 20 years of waiting to finally start up properly before I could open up the browser and check my email (2,985). A bunch of spam and one relevant email filled my inbox. I selected all the bullshit I don't care about and hit the trash icon then opened the email from the sandman.

Sandy is one of my best dealers and another extremely close and trusted allies. He is another person in my life with an odd name. No one knows his name, I don't even think he remembers what it originally was. It's gone through so many changes but the most current name is Sandy which apparently morphed from Shady. He said when I was just learning to talk I couldn't say his name but always called him Sandy like the sandman so I guess that's what he got stuck with. I call absolute bullshit on that story though because I was never cute enough to do such a thing. I was never cute.

Anyways, the email read -

19 July 2009

Sender: shadysandy

Receiver:

Subject: Wonderful Thoughts

Message: Hi Jack! I was making a distribution when I remembered it was your birthday so happy birthday!

I hope you're not getting into trouble with nasty old Pitch again. The last thing we need is for him to get any bright ideas and have you end up like last time. (I shivered at the memory of my stolen teenage years. Funny though, Sandy was talking about the same thing I dreamt about earlier today)

Anyways, the new stuff is selling very well. People have started calling it "Wonderful Thoughts" and I was thinking maybe we could extend our reach with this to bigger cities. Its your call though boss.

Have a nice day or night :-)

-Sandy

I decided to take care of the business with Sandy later and go check on Peter. While walking to the bathroom to grab my medical supplies - Peter had some cuts that would need stitches and I couldn't ignore the possibility of him needing medical attention... elsewhere - I stopped by the liquor cabinet again to grab a Coke out of the very back. I grabbed a can and started to walk away but an after thought occurred to me so I also grabbed some Crown Royal whisky to mix with my carbonated crap.

With an ice cold glass of Crown & Coke in my left hand and my all purpose medical supplies in my right I went to go start fixing Peter. However I only made it as far as the doorway.

**AN: HELLO CHILDREN! Well I guess not all of you are children but ah, whatever. Anyways sorry this is a couple days late. I sat here for a while trying to come up with a reasonable excuse but I realized that the only true thing I could say is that I am a very lazy person so there you go. **

***insert bad transition here***

**So since you're reading this story about Jack Frost and Peter Pan then I imagine you'd like to read more stories with this paring, no? WELL I think you all should go read Lady-Mademoiselle's _Wired Life. _She is a TOTALLY AWESOME AUTHOR. **

***another horrible transition***

**Okay so that sorta kinda boyfriend I mentioned before is a little shit. I'm really pissed at him but I still really reallY realLY reaLLY reALLY rEALLY REALLY like him. Its messed up but thats just how my life is I guess.**

***these transitions keep getting worse***

**Please oh please don't be mad but I ... uh ... still haven't written the third chapter. So... erm... yeah. I PROMISE I WILL TRY TO GET OFF MY LAZY ASS AND WRITE IT BEFORE I HAVE TO UPDATE AGAIN but considering I've been going through the worlds nastiest writers block, it might not happen or it might get written and in several months get rewritten. **

**So I guess there you go c:**

**Have a spectacular day/night/whatever you awesome person reading this and as always, don't forget to R&R**


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